


A separate son

by Alyss_asleep



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Adam and Ronan are happy, Adult Adam Parrish, Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Neglect, POV Mrs Parrish, POV Outsider, Postnatal depression, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Unhealthy mother/son relationships, probable depression, the gangsey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 13:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyss_asleep/pseuds/Alyss_asleep
Summary: Mrs Parrish watches Adam’s future unfold from a distance.Adam is separate, other  - an unknown entity.





	A separate son

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not really sure what this is other than an exploration of Mrs Parrish’s motivations for neglect and her distance from life - I’m sure this is the only way she could survive an existence with Robert. It’s pretty sad and a bit dark but, as always, I need Adam and Ronan to be happy and together at the end.

She had never really felt a connection to Adam. Even when he was a tiny thing, growing inside her body own body, he felt like an alien creature. An invader that sucked the calcium from her bones and made life with her husband a more volatile and unpleasant experience.

He didn’t like the mood swings, the hunger, the readiness to cry. The level of attention that she was forced to pay her pregnant body, an irritation. Time that could have been better spent earning a living; at least, that is what Robert would tell her.

This did not change when the baby arrived. She felt no swell of love, no great sweeping happiness. She was afraid.

They did not need an extra mouth to feed, another being to trigger Robert’s moods and drain the little energy left in her body.

Adam’s life began with regret and his mother’s became filled an with anxiety that eventually gave way only to numbness.

As the child grew, so did the distance. He was not like them. A quiet and altogether separate entity, that ate at their table and slept in their trailer, but did not exist as part of them.

She sometimes wondered if babies were switched in the hospital, if some other woman was raising a child that should have been hers. 

Adam was unnaturally intelligent, enquiring in a way that would only bring him pain. He was a being that wanted. The older he grew, the more he strived. She learnt early that the world rarely relinquished favours. It was not kind. It did not nurture. Adam should have learnt this, come to understand the importance of surrender. But, he was defiant of his circumstance and always searching; for what she did not know, and doubted its existence. But he always wanted more.

When he left she was relieved. He did not have a place here, was not his father’s son and shared little but breath with his mother. Sometimes it felt like he sucked all of the air from the room. His constant striving an unnecessary reminder of the sameness of her days. An affront to the numbness that permeated her existence. She did not know how to want.

Over time she felt loss, not for a son, but a distraction. A missing magnet that her life had come to revolve around. She felt more transient than ever; unmoored in a sea of passing moments that went unmarked by anything but ageing.

At a loss for direction she felt herself pulled towards that moving body. Watching but never engaging.

It started with newspaper clippings. Boasts of Adam’s achievements that were claimed by the small town. ‘Henrietta boy makes it big in the city.’ A story about the home town boy graduating 2nd in his class at Princeton University. Her reaction, upon reading the story, was one of dismissal. Adam has never been a son of Henrietta.

Next came announcements; a prestigious internship, a sought after job, wealth and success. 

Robert raged about these. The insolence of a child that did not send money home, did not take care of his mother, did not treat them with proper respect. She did not share these feelings; Adam was separate, apart. There was no need for anger, nor a consideration for pride. It was just other.

The next article was a little different, managing to garner a reaction - albeit one of mild surprise. Adam was returning. 

‘A new hope for the abused youth of Henrietta,’ it read. ‘Acclaimed hometown boy, Adam Parrish, returns to Virginia to help our state’s forgotten children.’

Was this Adam’s fall from grace, she wondered? A big city failure disguised as a prodigal son? Perhaps he would feel known, more human.

The last was a wedding announcement. Not for Adam, but for the friend. The rich one with connections, a governor’s son. Adam was listed as a groomsman - she could not see how he would fit. He never seemed to fit.

She was drawn, curious, to the edge of the party. Not a guest; an unnoticed observer, anonymous in the obscenely large sea of faces.

From a distance she looked, face devoid of emotion, as a hideous orange car pulled up at the church. The groom, to the delight and dismay of the crowd, slipped out from the drivers seat. Suit smart, smile wide, demeanour of money. 

Next came a face she would never forget. A criminal, a hero, a destroyer of worlds. A violent blur of a man that had removed Adam from their lives and broken her husband in one strained night.

The last face was Adam’s. He was different, but not cowed by the world. His face was older and his stance changed, still wary but more confident. Poised but somehow languid at the same time. 

The second boy reached back and took Adam’s hand. A gesture, obviously familiar from Adam’s ready acceptance. The child-Adam had not touched. Had not welcomed gentleness. The adult was different, content and connected. 

He was still separate, uncomfortable, ethereal - but he had a place. It was beside the dark haired boy, her husband’s attacker.

She watched closely, neither disturbed or impressed, as the men orbited each other. The other was different too, a dark mark of tension in a light and vibrant sea. 

Their closeness did little to normalise either boy. There was no dampening of each other’s presence. They were otherworldly, attainable only to each other.

And then the bride was there, a small fierce thing in a hideous dress of layered netting and purple silk. She reached out to Adam, buoyant and dreaming. He welcomed her embrace, short but intense, and then returned to the boyfriend, hands immediately entwining.

She was sorry for the girl, whose dreams would surely fester. Mrs Parrish knew no other way for a life to progress. 

She didn’t pity Adam, or imagine his future. He was less part of her than ever before. An autonomous being on a path she could not see. He would be happy or sad, maybe both or neither. It did not matter. He would be, he was a being - that’s all she needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello wonderful Pynch lovers! I’ve been messing around writing fluffy Yuri on ice stuff, but I’m back at my OTP and it’s gone a bit dark!
> 
> I missed you and our magical boys! They will always have a happy ending with me.


End file.
